Showing posts with label iPad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label iPad. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

The Samsung Smartphone Iris Scanner


Introduction

I have a new smartphone that can use biometric technology—specifically, an iris scanner—to authenticate me (i.e., to unlock itself). Though I was initially thrilled at the space-age modernity and ease of this feature, I ultimately decided not to continue using it, for a reason that may surprise you.


Why biometrics?

Biometric authentication might seem to some like a solution looking for a problem. Why not just use a password or PIN to unlock a phone or other device? Actually, static passwords are pretty fallible. People are lazy and choose really lame passwords. It’s also possible to intercept them; both my daughters managed to learn my smartphone’s PIN by looking over my shoulder.

But that’s not actually the biggest problem with traditional authentication. After all, security can be increased by using two factors, e.g., a static PIN or password plus a token or app that generates a new password every minute. But this process is annoying. To securely connect my work PC requires a complicated password to unlock it, followed by VPN authentication involving a numeric user ID, an 8-digit static PIN, and a 6-digit constantly changing PIN that I need to get from my phone, which (until recently) required that I unlock it with yet another 6-digit PIN. That’s 42 keystrokes total.

Meanwhile, throughout the day I’m typing this or that other username and password to reach various resources; I have well over 100 different logins to keep track of. Most of the time, the password field you type into doesn’t show you what you’re typing—just asterisks. This leads to typos, of course, so you have to start over. If you’re at a cafĂ©, this makes sense, but don’t most of us work in an office or at home 90% of the time? Why not show the password by default and have an optional “mask” button for public spaces?

This is where fingerprint readers, facial recognition, and iris scanning can really help. They’re faster and easier, removing an annoyingly repetitive behavior.

Samsung optical recognition

My new Samsung Galaxy S9+ phone has three ways of optically authenticating the user. It can use facial recognition (i.e., using the front-facing camera to see if it’s my face); it can use an infrared scanner to inspect my irises and compare them to the baseline image I stored in the phone; or it can use both. In practice, the facial recognition isn’t considered secure enough for sensitive applications. The combined method is also pointless, because the phone tries the less rigorous facial recognition method first, thus dispensing with the secure iris scan most of the time. In practice, only the iris scanner by itself makes any sense.

So, does the iris scanning work? There are two definitions of “work.” First, the phone needs to easily perform the test and unlock itself, without any false negatives (i.e., failing to recognize my irises). On top of this, the authentication has to actually be secure (i.e., avoid being circumvented by a malicious actor).

At first blush, the iris scan seems great. You swipe up from the bottom of the touch-screen to tell the phone to scan you; then, a fraction of a second later, your phone is unlocked. It’s like magic, and far easier than the six-digit PIN I had to type on my old phone. (That was actually seven taps total: the PIN and then—pointlessly—having to tap Enter.)

As far as whether the technology really is secure, that’s harder to ascertain because it’s like proving a negative. But honestly, I don’t care if it’s completely foolproof. For me, the security needs to meet exactly two standards: 1) my employer’s IT department trusts it; and 2) Google Pay trusts it. I don’t see that there’s that much real risk involved here. After all, what are the odds that a malicious actor will gain physical access to my phone? Negligible. And if someone did, well, I’d kick his ass! (Meanwhile, if I were to lose my phone, one quick phone call to corporate IT would have it wiped clean—i.e., “bricked”—within minutes.)

That said, this is a full-service blog so I’ll share what my cursory Internet research turned up. Yes, somebody has already hacked this technology. They used a digital camera with an infrared light, captured a photo of somebody’s irises, printed it out, and then put a contact lens over the iris in the printout to create the right curvature. One article called this “alarmingly easy” but is it, really? I don’t typically let strangers take a photo of my irises in infrared mode from three feet away without my consent. Meanwhile, let’s not forget that this methodology still requires that the malicious actor get physical access to my phone. How’s he gonna do that? And what exactly does he hope to get off my phone … my beer photos?

Anybody who fixates on security measures involving physical access is missing the point. This is not how hackers operate. Let me explain how they actually do their thing. Recently I was sitting in a doctor’s office reading Readers Digest and came across an “article” (i.e., thinly veiled ad) for a free app that gives emergency first responders a way to get pertinent info off your phone if they find you unconscious in a ditch. They will want to find out if you have any medical conditions, and have a way to contact your family members to let them know you’ve been in an accident. Without a screen lock this is pretty easy—they just call the last number you dialed, or sift through your contacts. But with a screen lock, things get harder. The app described by the Reader’s Digest article makes your medical information and emergency contacts available when your phone is still locked. Pretty cool, right?

Well, no, as it turns out. I downloaded the app and read the privacy policy. (If you never do this, you might consider starting, particularly when the creator of an app isn’t Google or Apple.) I discovered that this software monitors and reports all your browsing activity, even when you’re not using the app! In other words, it’s egregiously violating your privacy (which is why it’s offered for free). That’s the real risk, folks … not somebody stealing your phone and using it.

(By the way, if you want to make your emergency info available to first responders via your locked phone, check the website of your phone manufacturer. My old Motorola phones supported this natively, as does my Samsung.)

 The problem with optical scanning

So the Samsung iris scan looks pretty good, right? If so why this post? Well, as is so often the case, the honeymoon was brief.

A few days into my use of the iris scan authentication, I started having some problems. Usually the scan was almost instant, but then I challenged it in several ways. I used it while wearing contact lenses, then glasses, then sunglasses. With the first two, the phone had to work a little harder to get a good scan, but eventually worked. With sunglasses—no dice.

Still no big deal, right? But over time, seemingly as I myself got tired, this phone seemed to be working harder and harder to authenticate me. Things got worse in the evening, perhaps due to low ambient light and/or my increasingly dilated pupils. Instead of just flickering, the screen was putting two circles on the screen for me to align my eyes with. I couldn’t get a screenshot of this, but here’s how Samsung depicts it:


Still not a big deal, but not instant and automatic either. It had me doing a little bit of work, and I don’t like doing a little bit of work. I’m a Californian, man! I don’t have time for instant gratification! Moreover, I had the distinct sense that having this red light shining in my eyes was starting to cause discomfort.

Could this discomfort be in my head? Absolutely! Try this thought exercise: do you feel a little bit of an itch right now, on your head? Just a little? Doesn’t it kind of feel like something is crawling on it? Weren’t you sitting under a tree earlier? Isn’t this the season for spiders? Isn’t it entirely possible that one dropped down into your hair? There’s a little itch—admit it. You have to scratch now, don’t you? I do, and I’m the perpetrator of this ruse! (Don’t you feel a yawn coming on, too?)

The point is, any fear of side effects with this technology can start to niggle, and a little fear isn’t unreasonable. A government facility employing iris scans would screen you once every few days or weeks. But phones? We unlock these devices many dozens of times a day. I don’t think it’s irrational to wonder if frequent iris scanning might cause a cumulative problem. After all, this use of the technology is totally new.

I’m clearly not the first person to wonder if this is safe. Consider the second Google autocomplete suggestion that appeared when I typed “samsung iris scanner”:


As luck would have it, I had the opportunity to talk to a Samsung engineer about the safety of this feature. (Never mind how.) I should point out that our conversation was basically off the record. (I didn’t present myself as a blogger, because I don’t enjoy having people laugh in my face.) I also want to be clear that this guy didn’t utter a single sentence that would incriminate Samsung in any way. Everything he said indicated an essential trust in this technology.

At the same time, there were some nonverbal cues indicating that perhaps he’s not entirely confident that there’s zero risk here. This wasn’t just my interpretation … several others witnessing the exchange chuckled out loud a couple times. Due to the very essence of nonverbal communication, I cannot explain exactly how he hedged. Perhaps the most tangible detail I can convey is this cryptic statement he made, in response to my question about the high number of scans these phones are doing: “Everything in moderation, including moderation, right?”

(It was a great tech-geek conversation, by the way. The oddest thing he said was, “You can remove your irises!” I pictured a gory self-surgery for a moment before realizing he meant I could remove the stored benchmark image and try again. The idea is, if I had captured the baseline iris scan in bright daylight, then the authentication scans would also work best in bright daylight. You can experiment with different lighting conditions to capture the best sample, which will make scans work in the widest variety of conditions. The phone has an almost comically named “Manage Irises” menu for this.)

In the final analysis, I didn’t find any legitimate reason to act on my concerns … I recognize them as knee-jerk reactions, more paranoid than rational. There’s just not enough there to suggest a safety problem with this authentication method. But there’s a less slippery aspect to it that ultimately did cause me to abandon it anyway. Look at this photo:


What do you notice about that photo, particularly in contrast to the one before it? The guy in the photo looks pretty tired, doesn’t he? The Samsung photo is much nicer. The woman—surely a model—has really nice smiling blue eyes. If I looked like her, I might actually enjoy iris scans. Hell, I’d probably even snap selfies! I might even use Instagram! But the reality is much different. Unlocking my phone, particularly during the evenings after a hard day, became downright demoralizing. Here’s what I found myself looking at:


Look at those bags under my eyes! It’s depressing! I also don’t have any eyebrows left. Where the hell did they go? I used to have eyebrows. In fact, I had very nice eyebrows. I think they were my best feature—and now they’re gone … at some point they just straight-up vacated. Another ravage of age. And the above photo doesn’t even capture the expression my eyes would betray during these scans … it was one of confusion and frustration, which are decidedly unflattering.

I’m not kidding here: these iris scans were making me feel old and lost. Haven’t these damn phones, with their social media and their selfies, done enough to undermine our self esteem, without reminding us, through this new form of scrutiny, how tired and doddering so many of us have become?

The solution

Happily, there was an elegant solution to my quandary: I switched to the fingerprint reader. I’d initially refused to consider this technology because I cannot stand it on my iPad Air. That device’s fingerprint reader has always enraged me. It works about one in ten times. Typically I try it three times in a row to no avail, and then the iPad gives up and makes me type my password. So it’s actually adding effort and frustration, the net result being I almost never use my iPad for anything. It just sits in a drawer.

Samsung, on the other hand, has a great fingerprint reader. For one thing, it’s located on the back of the phone, which just makes sense. Plus, it happens to work perfectly. Furthermore, it offers a significant extra advantage: you don’t have to “wake up” the phone to use it. With the iris scanner, you have to un-snooze the phone by pressing a button on the side, and then you swipe up on the screen, point your eyes at the phone, and then it does the scan. With the fingerprint reader, even if the phone is sound asleep, you just touch the reader and the phone unlocks. I can do this in the same motion as pulling my phone out of my pocket, so it’s instantly ready to use. Moreover, the phone can store multiple fingerprints, so another trusted person (e.g., your spouse) can borrow it (e.g., you’re driving and he or she wants to navigate). I give Samsung’s fingerprint authentication an A+ … they really nailed it.

(No, Samsung didn’t give me a free phone or anything for writing this; I’d be required to disclose that if they did. So, if anyone from Samsung is reading this: you’re welcome.)

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For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Monday, January 18, 2016

AI Smackdown - Moto vs. Cortana vs. Siri


NOTE:  This post is rated R for mild strong language.

Introduction

I already blogged about my Android phone—not the way a professional critic would, but in terms of what’s actually interesting about it, which to me is the Artificial Intelligence angle.  Actually, “artificial stupidity” was the point:  a phone playing dumb so it can play favorites.  I’ve also blogged a bit about AI in general, with Apple’s Siri agent as a case study, but that was before I had an iOS device.  Now, I own all three platforms:  Moto/Android; Siri; and Microsoft’s Cortana.  In this post I compare and contrast them: not because I’m going to help you choose, but to try to make you laugh.  And you might have something interesting to scratch your head about later.

(I’m not going to try to differentiate between the terms Google Now, Android, and Moto.  They all meld in my mind.  If somebody protests that there are massive differences, I won’t be offended if you go read his or her blog instead.)


Cortana

I’ll start with Cortana because it can be dispatched very quickly.  If you type something into the Cortana field in Windows 10, it does a Bing search.  Bing is a little bit like using a Curad bandage instead of a Band-Aid, or using Hunts ketchup instead of Heinz, or wearing Sears Toughskins jeans instead of Levi’s.  It just isn’t done.  I don’t actually care if Bing works just fine.  It’s Bing, which means it’s not Google. “Let me Bing that for you.”  Give me a break.

Moreover, before you can get into the voice recognition stuff, you have to deal with this frightening disclaimer:


Yes, I know all this meddlesome snooping is just to “tailor the experience,” but it’s the online equivalent of your tailor saying, “To get the fit right on these trousers, I’ll have to reach in and fondle your balls.”  The explicit information Windows wants to use is bad enough, but that wide-open phrase “and other information” is just over the top.

Besides, “Cortana” sounds like a new model of Hyundai.  You know what Microsoft?  It’s over.  You lost.  You’re just a PC software company.  Stop trying to act “mobile.”

Android/Moto

I won’t go into a lot of detail about how well my Android phone responds to voice commands, because a) I already did that, here; and b) as I describe the Siri experience, I’ll compare it to Android/Moto as I go.

The really lame thing about Siri

Imagine if, before engaging with a person, you had to go push a button on the person’s chest.  In most cases, this would be absurd.  (With my kids, who never hear my commands, it would actually be an improvement.)

I think it almost goes without saying that voice response is a minimum requirement for any kind of AI.  The Siri demo I watched way back in 2012 did feature voice activation on the iPhone.  But oddly enough, for the Siri voice response to work on the iPad, the iPad has to be plugged in to an electrical outlet.  That is just so bizarre!  I mean, the iPad’s portability is the whole point, isn’t it?  What’s next for Apple:  an iPhone you plug into an RJ-11 jack?  This is ridiculous.  If I’m sitting at a desk next to an electrical outlet, I might as well be using a laptop.

There’s something else really lame about the iPad:  a limitation that hasn’t existed on an Apple product since the Apple II computer.  But I’ll get into that later.  Better to keep you in suspense.

Siri voice response:  up to snuff?

In general, Siri tries to have a bit more personality than Moto.  For example, if I ask my Droid, “Do you love me?” it shows me a song called “Do you love me?” by the Contours.  (My younger daughter, who has not seen “Her,” put me up to asking this question.)  When I asked Siri if she loved me, she responded, “I respect you.”  And when (again at my daughter’s behest) I asked Siri, “Have you ever gone to the bathroom?” she replied, “Who, me?”

Is this cheekiness a good thing?  Well, Siri’s responses may strike you as funnier that Moto’s.  On the other hand, when I asked my Droid about using the bathroom, I got a list of hits pertaining to using the wrong restroom (i.e., the one intended for the opposite sex).  It was a very funny list, linking to some amusing sites.  (You may be wondering:  have I ever used the wrong restroom?  Well, yes, once, purely by accident.  I was in there doing my business and thinking, “What kind of public restroom doesn’t have urinals?”  When the answer suddenly came to me, I hightailed it right on out of there.)

Sometimes Siri’s personality gets in the way.  For example, I asked Siri, “What time is it?” and she responded, “At the third stroke, it will be 16:26.  Beep.  Beep. Beep.”  This was more confusing than amusing, and besides, it was inaccurate:  the actual time was like 4:25:30.  I would rather Siri have a more reliable connection to the NIST Internet time servers than a zingy response.

If your desk is as cluttered as mine, being able to summon your phone by voice is very handy.  When I call out my keyphrase for my Droid, it makes a pretty loud two-tone beep to let me know it’s listening.  The iPad beep is much quieter.  Neither device responds in any useful way to the question, “Where are you?”  Siri says, “Wherever you are, that’s where I am.”  This isn’t that funny, and for most people wouldn’t even be true.  (I bring my iPad, Droid, silverware, and all other valuables with me wherever I go, so don’t bother burglarizing my house.)

 This is where these devices are inconsistent.  Their programmers need to decide if the device should have a sense of self or not.  Siri speaks in the first person (e.g., “Who, me?” and “I respect you”), but when I say, “Hey Siri, how’s your battery doing?” she has no idea what “your” means.  She replies, “My apologies ... I couldn’t find those stocks.”  Pretty useless.

When I tell my Droid, “Find my phone,” it makes this cool sonar sound continuously until I find and silence it.  When I tell Siri “Find my iPad,” she tries to make me turn on Location Services.  Look, Siri, if I could do that, I’d know where you are, and I wouldn’t be asking.

I’ve often thought that one of the most useful features of voice response would be getting help configuring the device.  So I said, “Hey Siri, turn on your flash.”  She replied,  “Who, me?”  I decided some context might help, so within the camera app I said to turn on the flash.  Siri replied, “It doesn’t look like you have an app named ‘flash.’  If you’d like, I can help you look for it on the App Store.”  I just don’t think this is that difficult a concept.  You have a camera.  It has a flash.  Turn it on.

The Droid does respond to “Take a selfie.”  It ought to say, “I can’t,” because its camera is basically its face.  But its reaction, which is to launch the camera, put it in selfie mode, and set a self-timer, is actually fairly useful, at least for the hands-free breed of narcissist.  When I tell Siri “take a selfie,” she says, “You’ll need to unlock your iPad first.”  This isn’t very helpful, and in fact isn’t even true.  As my older daughter discovered, the iPad can be used as a camera even by somebody who lacks my fingerprint and passcode.  And when I follow Siri’s instructions and unlock the iPad, it does go into camera mode, but not selfie mode.  As regards this command, Siri is fairly incompetent.

Something that bothers me about my Droid’s AI is a certain lack of resourcefulness.  When I ask it, “How do I look?” I think it should activate the camera in selfie mode, to use as a mirror.  Or It could really wow me by saying, “Your hair is a mess.”  (When you consider modern digital camera technology, which can tell if a subject’s eyes are closed, this hairdo check actually seems quite doable.) 

I asked Siri, “How do I look?” and she really stumbled.  She kept hearing, “How do I luck,” which she should have automatically revised because it just doesn’t make any sense.  One time, she thought I asked, “How do I lurk?” and replied, “I found something on the web about ‘how do I lurk.’ Check it out.”  That’s really unfortunate.  I wonder what kind of banner ads and spam I’ll get now that the Internet thinks I’m a stalker.

Finally Siri heard me right and replied, “Judging by your voice, I’d say you must be fairly attractive.”  Clever, but also kind of patronizing.  I mean, it’s bad enough asking an inanimate object such a personal question, but to be damned with faint praise ... that’s pretty pathetic.  I think Siri should be generous and say, “I would so go to bed with you.”

At least Siri respects my privacy.  When I said, “Get me home,” she replied, “I don’t know your home address.  In fact, I don’t know anything about you.”  I found this really reassuring, especially after Cortana’s attempted shakedown earlier.  (Yes, Siri did ask me to go into settings and identify myself, but didn’t require it.)

I have to say, though, there’s something a bit creepy about Siri.  When I ask something complicated, such as a question regarding navigation, there’s this little blurry light that bounces back and forth along the bottom edge of the screen, which reminded me of something sinister.  After racking my brain for awhile I realized what:  the single roving eye of a Cylon from “Battlestar Galactica.”  Is Siri some kind of kindred spirit to the AI powering the Cylons?  If so, that doesn’t reflect well ... the Cylons were really pretty stupid.  They always went down like bowling pins.

Another creepy thing:  when I said, “Hey Siri, lock my iPad,” she replied, “I’d like to, but I cannot.  My apologies.”  This almost gave me chills.  It brought me right back to the HAL 9000 in “2001 – A Space Odyssey,” when Dave says, “Open the pod bay doors, HAL,” and HAL replies, “I’m sorry, Dave.  I’m afraid I can’t do that.”  Who is Siri’s master:  me, or Apple?

Feature parity with Moto?

If I were designing Siri, or working on an update package, I’d pay close attention to what the competition is doing.  I’d make sure, for example, that anything Moto could do, Siri could do better.  This evidently hasn’t occurred to Apple, because there are all kinds of commands Moto can handle that Siri cannot.  For example, if you ask Moto, “What’s up?” it will trawl through your appointments, e-mails, etc. and give you an update.  I asked Siri “What’s up?” and she said, “I’m thinking about pie.  Mmmmmm.” 

If you tell Moto, “Talk to me,” it will announce incoming calls and texts for the next 30 minutes.  This doesn’t occur to Siri, who responds, “I’d really prefer it if you talked to me.  Tell me your hopes, your dreams, where you’d like to make a dinner reservation.”  So I told Siri, “I hope my dinner is yummy tonight.”  She replied, “I don’t know what you mean by ‘I hope my dinner is yummy tonight.’  How about a web search for it?”  Not a very good listener, since she specifically asked me to tell her my hopes!  Just lip service.  I said, “I dream of being rich and famous one day,” and got the same “I don’t know what you mean” response.

I said, “Hey Siri, play Beethoven on YouTube.”  She replied, “You don’t seem to have an app named ‘YouTube.’ We could see if the App Store has it.”  Don’t play dumb with me, Siri!

I asked Siri to zap my screen (which is how Moto is told to take a screen snapshot).  Siri kept hearing “zapped my screen” (which resulted in a web search) and then eventually heard “zap ice cream,” and—bizarrely—pulled up a Dairy Queen in Beulah, North Dakota.  I’m not kidding.

Since screen snapshots are really useful to bloggers, I kept trying:  “Hey Siri, take a screen snapshot.”  To my great surprise, Siri didn’t play dumb, but simply refused:  “That’s beyond my abilities at the moment.”  Huh?  No way is this beyond her abilities.  I managed to learn (no thanks to Siri) how to get a snapshot (pressing two far-flung buttons at once).  So it can be done.  Why can’t Siri do it?  Is she a bit ... simple?

You may be wondering how I know so many cool Moto commands.  It’s because you can say, “Get a list of commands,” and Moto provides one.  I told Siri, “Get a list of commands” and though—as you can see—she did hear me right, she decided just to show me a map of the nearest Coast Guard station.  WTF!?



Is Siri the best at anything?

Okay, I’ve been pretty harsh on Siri here.  Is she better than Moto at anything?  Well, yes.  I think her navigation is better.  I just asked Moto, “Where is the nearest pizza place?” Moto replied, “Here are the listings for ‘nearest pizza place’ within zero point eight miles.”  The nearest place—Gioia Pizzeria—was listed first among non-paid entries, but at the top of the screen was an ad for Little Caesars $5 Pizza, which a) isn’t nearby, and b) isn’t even pizza.  (I don’t know what that stuff is, but it ain’t pizza.)  Meanwhile, if I were trying to get this answer without having to look at my phone—like, if I were driving—this written response would be useless.  (At least Moto did better than when I first blogged about this, when it lied and said Zachary’s Pizza was the closest.)

Here, Siri did better.  She replied, aloud, “The nearest one I found is Gioia in Berkeley, which averages 4½ stars and is inexpensive.  Would you like to try it?”  Presumably if I’d said yes, she’d have navigated there.  Instead I said, “Actually, Siri, it’s pretty expensive.”  To which she replied, “I’m sorry.”  Well played, Sir[i]!

It’s in the realm of a more specific request where Siri really shines.  I asked, “Where’s the nearest deep dish Chicago style pizza place?”  She showed me Zachary’s, which is correct.  I’m pretty impressed, especially since when I asked Moto the same question, it showed me Giordano’s and Lou Malnati’s, both of which are in Chicago.  As you can see, Moto clearly heard “nearest” correctly, but somehow missed my meaning.


The second really lame thing about iPads

Earlier I complained about how you have to plug in the iPad to get voice activation, and promised to reveal another huge shortcoming.  I doubt you’ll immediately grasp how lame this next one is, but here goes:  Apple iOS doesn’t support the Dvorak keyboard layout, which is  more efficient than QWERTY and has been supported by Apple since the Apple IIc.  According to Wikipedia, the IIc  “had a mechanical switch above the keyboard whereby the user could switch back and forth between the QWERTY layout and the Dvorak layout.... The IIc Dvorak layout was even mentioned in 1984 ads, which stated that the World’s Fastest Typist, Barbara Blackburn, had set a record on an Apple IIc with the Dvorak layout.”
                                                               
I haven’t been able to find anything on the Internet about why Apple decided not to support Dvorak on the iPad.  I guess the default answer for their product choices—“Because we’re gods, and we can do whatever we want!”—will have to do.  It’s so frustrating, since this has got to be really simple to do in software.  It would probably take some Apple developer about five minutes.

But why should you care, since you type on QWERTY anyway?  Well, consider the security ramifications of encouraging third party developers to create such fundamental utilities as keyboard software.  After installing Fleksy, a free Dvorak-enabled app, I messed about with the iPad a little, wandered off to do something more useful, and then realized, “Duh, I’ve just done something really stupid.”  What better way to steal somebody’s keystrokes than to create an app that quite obviously has access to everything I type?

At first I told myself this was no big deal.  After all, I’m mainly using the iPad to browse the web, and I don’t kid myself that my every move on the Internet isn’t already tracked, and not just by the NSA.  (By the way, keep up the good work, guys!  Thanks for keeping me safe!)

But of course, there’s the little matter of passwords.  I felt like I’d just given away the keys to the kingdom, or at least to the two websites I’d logged into (my bank and my e-mail).  I was all set to go change those two passwords, but first decided to see how hard it is to switch iPad keyboards on the fly, so going forward I could type passwords with the native Apple iOS keyboard.  Perhaps there would be a function key right on the soft Fleksy keyboard to simplify this switch?  And then I noticed this:



It might be hard to tell, but in the first snapshot above, the cursor is in the Username field.  In the second snapshot, the cursor is in the Password field.  The same flag that tells the OS to obscure the password (i.e., showing ******* instead of what’s typed) tells the iPad to switch to the standard Apple iOS keyboard.  So those passwords I typed before? I’d typed them on the standard QWERTY  keyboard without even realizing it.  Those passwords weren’t at risk of being intercepted by the Fleksy keyboard app after all.  That’s pretty clever of Apple, isn’t it?

Of course, when your cleverness only serves the mitigate the downside of your pointless shortcoming, it’s actually a lot less impressive.  Hey Apple, why not support the Dvorak layout to begin with, like you did with the Apple IIe, the Apple III, the Macintosh, the Quadra, the PowerBook, the Performa, the iMac, the iBook, and the MacBook?

At the time of this writing, Apple is sitting on over $200 billion in cash.  Couldn’t they spend a few bucks to match the features of their own earlier products?  Hell, they could probably get an unpaid intern to do it.  I, for one, am not feeling the love ... even if Siri does claim to respect me.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

2011 - The Year in Review

NOTE:  This post is rated R for mild strong language.

Introduction

After a long year of blogging I find myself facing the “year in review” post. If you don’t love the “year in review” format, you should:  this is how, if you’ve been ignoring world news for the last year, you can quickly come up to speed on the highlights.

You might well ask, “Who is this random blogger to be deciding what news events were most important?”  Well, I did spend last year basing my blog posts on the most important current events throughout the world.  If this statement makes you chuckle, read on because you may enjoy my rhetorical game of trying to make this outlandish statement seem reasonable.

January

The big news of January was of course the senseless shooting of nineteen people in Tucson.  I’m not going to make light of this or try to be funny because that would obviously be tasteless.  (Don’t worry, the rest of this post won’t be such a downer.)

During this month I wrote about a very strange dream I had about being shot.  Do you suppose guns show up in Americans’ dreams more than those of other cultures, where guns aren’t so readily available?  In other  words, what is the impact on our collective subconscious of knowing people around us could be armed?  (I actually did have a gun pulled on me once, by a complete stranger.)

We Americans take the ubiquity of guns for granted, so it amazes me that other developed countries are virtually gun-free.  In the “New Yorker” this week, America’s self-proclaimed “top cop” said, “The firearm problem in England is almost laughable in the sense of how small it is.  The gangs [there], I would describe as, basically, wannabes.”  In the same issue, a reporter interviews a Japanese policeman who deals with the “yakuza,” the Japanese organized crime syndicate:  “When I asked if he’d ever fired his gun, he said that he hadn’t even used his nightstick.”

February

Needless to say, the biggest news of February was the unveiling of “The Daily,” a British newspaper from Rupert Murdoch that is only available in the US and only for the iPad.  It goes without saying that when historians take the long view of 21st-century society, they will divide it into two epochs:  pre-Daily-for-iPad, and post.  About the only recent innovation that comes close to ushering in such sweeping societal change is the Segway.

What was Murdoch thinking?  How many Americans both a) want a British newspaper, and b) have an iPad?  I’m not trying to say the iPad isn’t popular, but compared to a regular computer?  (When I look at pageview stats for this blog, I see that less than 1% were from iPads.)  Perhaps Murdoch was just distracted by all the illegal wiretapping he and his staff were embroiled in.

Meanwhile, traditional printed newspapers offer so much:  the ability to line a birdcage; the ability to wrap fish; the ability to protect fragile plates and glasses when you’re packing up to move; even a way to keep your head somewhat dry when it’s raining and you’ve forgotten your umbrella.  Murdoch’s overblown excitement about electronic publishing ties in nicely with my February post “Death of a Bookstore” in which I describe why I want to hate the Kindle and why I think bookstores won’t go extinct.

March

I was really torn as to what was the biggest news for March:  the tsunami in Japan, or the big iPhone flap.  So I decided to let Google decide:  I typed “tsunami” into the search field and the first related search it gave me was “tsunami sushi sf.”  So I guess in the big scheme of things what happens in Japan, stays in Japan.

Which brings us to the other big news which is of course the iPhone glitch that caused the clocks on these phones to be turned back an hour instead of forward to adjust for Daylight Saving Time.  This meant users’ phone clocks were actually two hours off, and one user nearly missed yoga class.

If only people paid more attention to my blog!  In March I was all over Daylight Saving Time; embedded in my post is the simple solution to the problem, adopted by Russia, which is to abolish DST altogether.  (Russia’s abandonment of DST made the news in March, too, but unless you subscribe to the Moscow Times you won’t be able to read this article about it.  For a charming video on this decision, click here).

April

The big news in April was the speech given by British prime minister David Cameron in which he suggested that immigrants should learn English.  The Guardian story on this topic is an odd read, because it was published before the actual speech, and is written in the future tense:  “The prime minister will open his speech by saying,” and “Cameron will say,” and “The prime minister will stride into sensitive political territory when he accuses  …” and so forth.

My mention just now of the future tense, and my use of “read” as a noun, might have made some readers squirm.  Yes, such usage does beg the question, “Is it reasonable to require anybody to learn English as a second language, given how tricky a language English is?”  Also begging this question is my April post, “The Trouble with English.”  Actually, my post doesn’t beg the question, it simply poses the question.  Rhetorically.  And then answers it.  The phrase “begging the question” is exactly the sort of idiomatic expression that makes this language so difficult, though of course idioms are only the beginning of the problem.  Perhaps if Cameron had read my post, he’d have been more sensitive.  (No, of course that’s not true.)

May

In May I posted a rant against imbeciles who, in the name of journalism, cheat at sport and write about it.  The May issue of “Outside” magazine had a particularly annoying article by Andrew Tillin, an arrogant shitweasel who jacked himself up on testosterone so he could rider faster in meaningless 45+ races and think grand thoughts like “Take that, you motherfuckers.  There’s more.”  Except there isn’t, because despite cheating he still ended up in only 17th place because he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.  Then he actually makes money by writing a book about it.

Of course, I couldn’t just berate Tillin and his ilk without providing an alternative to their so-called journalism, so I did my own experiment where I donated two units of red blood cells to a blood bank, thus giving myself an athletic impediment roughly equivalent to the advantage gained by blood-boosting or using EPO.  I studied my performance decline closely and (unlike the doping journalists) provided a detailed, objective report with lots of charts and graphs, free, to my albertnet readers.

What I couldn’t have guessed when I posted that was how timely my post would be.  Later that month, Tyler Hamilton went on “60 Minutes” and admitted that he’d doped throughout his career, and claiming he saw Lance Armstrong use drugs as well.  This bombshell spawned all kinds of articles including this one.  The most remarkable development, though, is how mainstream this news topic has become.  Armstrong’s doping allegations were featured twice this month in “The Onion,” a mainstream online magazine not known for covering cycling.  Check out this feature and this one.

June

The big world news in June, of course, was of the deployment of troops in Yemen by the son of its injured and evacuated president, Ahmed Ali Saleh.  I won’t bore you with the details since you know them already, but I couldn’t help but to notice what a great Father’s Day gesture this was.  I mean, to deploy troops in the streets of the capital on Dad’s behalf… it’s really amazing.

I did my best to honor my own father with a Father’s Day post, but fondly recalling how he’d bawl out the cat or deny the family TV privileges just doesn’t hold a candle to stepping up and commanding a military.  I’d like to do more for my dad but I can’t.  It’s just how I was raised.

July

Of course July will be remembered for Australian Cadel Evans’ magnificent victory in the Tour de France, and more specifically, for the astonishing turn of events that transpired at the final victory ceremony, where Australian pop star Tina Arena sang the Australian national anthem.  As famously reported in Velo News, Evans remarked, “I was a bit surprised that Tina Arena came out to sing the anthem, that was very nice of her. … to stand on the Champs-ÉlysĂ©es with an Australian singing the national anthem … it’s not a dream that comes true for many Australians.”  Such humility in a true champion … I mean, Tina Arena? Are you kidding me?

As an American, though, I couldn’t help but wince when I read that news.  Of course I have no problem with my countrymen failing to win the Tour; it’s just that the national anthem of the U.S., which has been sung ten times at the Tour de France, is so fricking lousy.  When, earlier in the month, I posted an extended harangue against our anthem, I neglected to compare it to other anthems, such as Australia’s.  The Australian anthem is actually quite good; its clunkiest lyric, “Our home is girt by sea,” is far less embarrassing than the great number of bombastic and silly lines that disgrace the U.S. anthem like so much graffiti.

August

Needless to say, the big news this month was that Scotland finally took steps to combat its obesity problem.  (You’d think, with all the movies and TV shows the U.S. exports over there, that the Scots would have gotten the hint a lot earlier.  Is our world leadership waning?)  Suffice to say, the world rejoiced at the announcement that leading retailers in Scotland had pledged to take measures against obesity, such as displaying fruits and vegetables more prominently.

In an amazing coincidence (or did I get an advance tip?), during this same month I wrote not one but two posts about the food of Scotland:  this one and this one.  Oddly, I didn’t gain weight in Scotland, though I enjoyed all kinds of hearty fare, such as haggis (a mixture of the minced heart, lungs, and liver of a sheep or calf mixed with suet, onions, oatmeal, and seasonings and boiled in the stomach of the slaughtered animal) and the famous Full Scottish Breakfast, consisting of a tattie scone (greasy), hash-brown cartridge (greasy and salty), bacon (‘nuff said), a large sausage lozenge called Lorne sausage (greasy, salty, generally alarming), and blood pudding (a chewy, mulchy little disk of congealed, salty pig’s blood).  That breakfast aside, I really liked the Scottish food, and I hope the retailers don’t change it too much.

September

In September, albertnet focused on cycling:  the US Pro Challenge, an epic ride I did in Colorado, and my food-heavy account of the Everest Challenge bike race.  I will now confess that I’d hoped one of these stories would win me the Ig Nobel prize for literature.  Alas, I didn’t even get a nomination.

Of course, I was up against some pretty stiff competition, as you’ll know if you followed the news on this subject.  The winner in the chemistry category had invented a wasabi-based fire alarm; another award was given for research on whether people make better decisions when they have a strong urge to urinate.  In the literature category the winning entry was the “Theory of Structured Procrastination.” I guess I can’t compete with that.  I was frankly stunned when this article won the prize, though, because I really didn’t think its author would ever finish writing it.

October

This month brought me more disappointment:  I posted two fiction pieces to albertnet, and neither of them won the Man Booker Prize.  (I realize the prize is only for writers from the British Commonwealth and Ireland, but I’m still disappointed.)  The second of my stories, “Before the Fall,” was hailed as a “heart-wrenching but also darkly funny tour de force” by … nobody!  So I lost out to the novel The Sense of an Ending, by Julian Barnes.

Of course you’ll recall the scandal this prize caused this month, when the head judge described the novel as “readable.”  Whether this infuriated elite readers because it’s not sufficient grounds for awarding the prize, or whether it infuriated them because great literature isn’t supposed to be readable, is unclear to me.  In a Guardian article about the award, the winner brushed off the scandal, remarking, “Most great books are readable.”  I guess some obvious exceptions would be Ulysses and Gravity’s Rainbow.  (No, I haven’t read either of those.  How could I?  They’re unreadable!)

Barnes himself couldn’t help but praise his own prize-winning book, though in an oddly humble way:  “Those of you who have seen my book … will probably agree it is a beautiful object. And if the physical book, as we’ve come to call it, is to resist the challenge of the eBook, it has to look like something worth buying, worth keeping.”  So now I have four reasons to go buy The Sense of an Ending:  1) it won the Man Booker prize; 2) it is said to be readable; 3) it is a beautiful object; and 4) as I’ve said before, I want printed books to survive.

November

My most popular (or shall I say least un-popular) post for this month was “The British Faucet Conundrum.” So far it’s had  123 hits; one person #1’D it (whatever that means); one person flagged it as “Funny”; and it elicited two reader comments, only one of which was from a member of my family.  I’m happy to see it getting read, but at the same time I’m disappointed in the poor response (34 hits, no responses) to another post from November, “Spotting Bad Restaurants,” which I think is a very useful guide.  I provide a number of simple ways to recognize a bad place before it’s too late to leave.  If nothing else this could save you a number of rushed trips to the bathroom later.

Perhaps my restaurant post could have been researched better.  (Of course it could have, my research budget for this blog being ZERO.)  I missed a major criterion of a good restaurant, that being “Is it kid-friendly?”  If the big restaurant news for this month had hit sooner, my post would have been more complete.  I’m referring, of course, to the major revelation that a restaurant in London had started charging moms a “baby tax.”  As you know, they didn’t get away with it, and published an apology on their website stating “this is an isolated incident” and “we will be in contact with Natasha Young and Anna Sheridan with a personal apology for their mistreatment by our staff.”  Um ... unless the two moms dined together, wouldn’t that be two isolated incidents? 

Semantics aside, I have to believe the “baby tax” problem was related to the poor performance of individual restaurant staffers, not the policy of the restaurant’s home office.  Staffing problems are widely acknowledged among restaurants in the UK; one place I went to even admitted to it, right on the menu:


December

Okay, I’ll come right out and admit it:  I didn’t follow the news at all in December.  I was laid up at home all month with a broken femur, as I blogged about here, here, and here.  Pretty much the only major world news I read about was Lewis’s comeback.  What, you didn’t follow the story about Craig Lewis, the American pro cyclist who broke his femur during the Giro d’Italia back in May?  I suppose you were too engrossed in the doping allegations against Lance Armstrong to be following the athletes who are actually still racing.  Anyway, Lewis crashed in the Giro and broke his femur, and struggled to get back to racing, and eventually needed a bone graft because his leg wasn’t healing right.  I’ll be keeping a close eye on him next month to see how he does.  You should, too.

Conclusion

Well, so much for 2011.  I hope your 2012, and mine, are (even) better.  I’m so glad you made it to the end of this post.  Dare I hope this post ascended to the pinnacle of literary achievement, Readability?
dana albert blog